


The Quarantine Chronicles: A Second Collection of Darvey Ficlets

by justanotheranonymouswriter



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Cute, Fluff, Gen, Idiots in Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:28:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 11,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23909983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotheranonymouswriter/pseuds/justanotheranonymouswriter
Summary: Quarantine is boring. Instead of watching everything on Netflix, I made a call out to the Darvey fandom for prompts on Twitter and wrote a collection of ficlets based on the responses. Enjoy another round of tiny glimpses into the angsty, cute, goofy relationship that is Donna and Harvey.
Relationships: Donna Paulsen & Harvey Specter, Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter
Comments: 10
Kudos: 41





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Quarantine is boring, especially when one of your main ways to kill time is playing music, but your downstairs neighbour thinks they are the only person stuck inside and has dedicated themselves to some impressive levels of sensitivity and complaining.
> 
> So, I called out for prompts for ficlets, and wrote a bunch. It was a hugely fun way to spend 24 hours. As with the Plane Chronicles, I had to fit the stories into four screenshots on my phone notes app, in order to post them to Twitter, which adds an interesting challenge from limited space.
> 
> A few people asked to have them all collated together, so here they are. They're in roughly chronological order. They're largely unchanged, just edited for spelling/grammar and clarity.
> 
> As always, reviews are hugely appreciated. A few of these will become longer pieces, so knowing what you loved and would like to see expanded is super helpful!
> 
> Also as always, massive shout out to the fandom who not only gave amazing prompts, but also such enthusiastic feedback and input. You guys are an absolute blast to write with and for.
> 
> Prompt from reeserixh: Pre canon. Donna is talking with Rachel about the other time at the office, and Harvey over hears from outside her office.

Rachel's forgotten to close the door to her office, and that's not unusual, she does it all the time, but Harvey doesn't have his phone on him for once and he's not distracted by text messages or phone calls, and so he hears the conversation that drifts out into the hallway.

It's Donna and it's Rachel, and they're gossiping, because they do, and he makes a mental note to tell Donna that she's meant to be at her desk, and then he hears the words _Cameron Dennis_ , and that stops him, because why the hell is Donna talking to Rachel about Cameron Dennis?

He's just outside the office, close enough to the wall that he can't be seen by Rachel and Donna, and he fights the ridiculous urge to push himself up against the wall for extra invisibility, but he doesn't, because he's not a spy and because he'd look fucking stupid.

"Once," Donna says, and he freezes, because he knows, he just _knows_ what they're talking about.

"Oh my god," Rachel says, and he can practically feel her lean towards Donna, and she's somewhere between scandalised and hopeful. "Donna, that's huge. Why didn't you…"

"Try?"

"Yeah."

Harvey knows Donna, and he can feel her turning her words over in her head. She's articulate and smart, and she won't say something unless it's what she wants to say, and that's why it stings when Donna says, "I would have wanted to. Try. But Harvey - he wasn't ready," because she's right, and because he thinks he still isn't.

"Would you still want to try?" Rachel asks, and it's a question he feels like he shouldn't wait for the answer to, but he finds his feet are rooted to the spot and he can't make himself leave.

"I try not to ask myself that," Donna says, and it's wistful, and it's sad, and not for the first time has he thought about him and her and called himself a coward.

"Mmm," Rachel says, and then, with a sparkle in her voice, says, "And, was he…"

"Oh my god, Rachel, was he." He hears her chair shift as she sits back. "He ruined me for my next three boyfriends."

" _Really_." The lilt in Rachel's voice is mischievous, and he never thought he'd enjoy being the subject of a gossip session between two best friends, but he thinks this might not be so bad.

"Really." Donna is probably leaning into Rachel, her eyebrows raised as if she's spilling national secrets. "You know when you're with someone, and you just know that this is it?" Rachel must nod, and Donna continues, "it was like that the first time he kissed me. It was like lightning, Rachel, I swear to god. It was like someone had drawn him a fucking map. He just…knew me. It was something else all together. I couldn't think straight for a week after."

"Could you walk straight?"

"You watch it, missy," Donna says, but she doesn't deny it.

Harvey feels his shoulders square, and he tells his own pride off, because Donna is sharing something so deep and so intimate and something she's tucked away for years and this isn't the moment for him to dredge up his stupid masculine pride, because she's not talking about fucking. She's talking about love and that he was it for her, and that's far more than he's worthy of.

It will take years before he realises that night twisted her around him the same way it twisted him around her, and he goes to her door, and they don't think.

_end_


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from shipsandfandoms: Harvey and Donna had a fight and Harvey slept on the couch, but Donna doesn't want to sleep alone, so she cuddled with Harvey on the couch, and they apologize to each other
> 
> A/N: For another challenge I had already written a post-canon fight and reconciliation that was very similar, so I turned this into a pre-canon timeframe and cranked the angst.

Harvey and Donna fight a lot. They fight like good friends and colleagues and not-quite-lovers fight, arguments spiked by good intentions and undercurrents of need and want, and it's the back and forth of two smart, passionate people who want the best for their jobs and for their friends and for each other.

Mostly, mostly, when they fight, it diffuses quickly, with a ridiculous metaphor or snapped insult that comes out like a joke, and that pauses the flow of heated debate, and then turns on a smile for one, and then the other, and then that turns into a fit of mutual laughter, and then there's a truce over drinks and they say _friends? friends_ and then there's the kind of light hearted flirting that lets them both go home with a new memory to tuck away and unconsciously compare to every drink they have with an actual date.

This one is different. This one is too late in the day and too late in the case, too far into mistakes and maybes and should-haves, and the smile never comes to turn the fight into flirting. And so when Donna tells him he's being a fucking idiot, it's not with the hint of a smile that makes it okay for her to say it to him, and when he snaps back that she's just his secretary and to do her goddamn job, there's a vein of anger and intent that isn't usually there and there's no cushion to the words, and she goes quiet, and nods, and leaves, and he's too proud to call out to her because he always is, and he stands for too long listening to the quiet hallway and wondering if she'll come back.

Hours later, stubbornness chasing his refusal to go home and rest because he's too angry to let himself unwind properly, he falls asleep on the couch in his office with his shirt sleeves rolled up and his tie loose and an empty glass in his hand.

And a few hours later, it's not the early morning sirens and garbage trucks that wake him up.

It's her.

She's crouched in front of him, her face level with his, and she looks … kind. And she has her hand resting at his temple, fingers threaded through his hair, and that's new.

"Hey," he says.

"Hi." She runs her eyes over him on the couch, then says, "you didn't go home, did you." She knows he's stubborn and especially so when he's shot through with anger.

"You're here early."

"Because I knew you wouldn't go home. So I brought you a suit and some breakfast." Her eyes are very close to his when she says, "I'm sorry."

He hears himself sigh, and it's all of last night releasing itself from wherever he's been circulating it through his nervous system. His hand is hung off the side of the couch, and it comes up to the side of her face. "I'm sorry too. Donna..."

"I know." She hears his _if only_ and _I wish_ and she hates the tension that undercuts everything as much as he does. And then she says, "friends?" and he's never hated a word more. And then there's something in him that pulls her to him, so he can press his forehead against hers for a moment, eyes closed against hers, and then he lifts his head to press the bridge of his nose into her hair, and it's as close to kissing her as he has the courage to do.

When he pulls back, there's a moment, he swears there's a moment, and her eyes are gorgeous, and she has to break it because he can't, so she says, "friends?" and it's low and it's regret.

He says, "friends," and wishes he'd kissed her instead.

_end_


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by asnackforalways: Machel finding out about Darvey ... accidentally.

Mike and Rachel are in early.

They're trying to get a jump on the Jenkins Moore deposition, because their defence team has sent thousands of goddamn boxes of discovery over and of course Harvey's asked them to get through everything before the meeting in a couple of days. They had come in early to try and make it through a couple more boxes before Harvey showed up demanding miracles and answers.

They've parked themselves on Harvey's sofa with oversized cups of coffee in hand. Rachel is sorting through Mike's pile of 'maybe this is something' and Mike is just digging into the third box of the morning when Harvey shows up, his own huge cup of coffee in his hand, his tie skewed to the left and his suit slightly less sharp than normal.

"Big night?" Mike asks, without looking up from the file he's just fished out.

"What?" Harvey sounds a little too harried by his question, and Mike glances at him questioningly.

"Were you working late as well?" Mike clarifies.

"Oh. Yeah." Harvey yawns and chases it with a too-big gulp of coffee that burns its way down his throat and makes him grimace. He drops the cup at his desk and runs his hands through his hair in a vain effort to look like he's had more sleep than he has, and scrubs a hand over his face. "How's the discovery coming along?"

Mike shrugs and dumps the file back into the small mountain he's building before fishing out another. "About the same as last night. Lots of paper and not much paper trail. They've well and truly buried us on this one."

Rachel drops a post-it onto one file and sets it aside for copying. "They were pretty smug about it on the phone yesterday when I called to clarify some of their systems," she says.

"Well, get it done, and don't let them see you sweat," Harvey says, but he's distracted and patting his pockets down.

"Keys?" Rachel asks. He's awful with his keys. Donna keeps a spare set in her drawer just because he can't be trusted.

"Phone," he mutters, checking the inside of his jacket before running his hands over his hips.

Rachel opens her mouth and is about to offer to call it for him when Donna walks into his office and, before stopping to check if Harvey is alone, holds his phone out to him and says, "Harvey, you left this on the bedside table this morning and I've told you that you need to pay more attention…"

She trails off as she sees Rachel and Mike looking at her from the couch.

Rachel's eyes go wide, and her mouth opens in a perfect compromise between shock and joy.

Mike looks at Harvey, who has gone very still.

"Dude," Mike says. "Oh my god."

"Mike, shut the fuck up." He takes his phone, and as he does Donna and Harvey brush hands and nearly jump and they share a look that says exactly what happened last night, and it's not lost on Mike.

" _Oh my god._ "

"Shut the _fuck_ up," Harvey and Donna chorus in unison.

Harvey drags Donna out of his office to 'talk', and Mike shouts after them that he can officiate weddings while Harvey flips him the finger and Rachel flutters at Donna.

Mike tells the story when they get married the next year.

_end_


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by dri_micheletti: Donna sees Paula and Harvey kiss.

They kiss on a Friday in the foyer of the office.

Donna's just stepped out for the weekend, and it's been one of those weeks. 'One of those weeks' is a saying of course, because Donna doesn't have 'those weeks', not when it comes to Harvey, because she knows Harvey so well that she's come to be someone who surprises him, not the other way around.

At least, that's how it was before he told her he was dating his therapist. As it turns out, not only can Harvey surprise her, he can surprise her in a way that makes her heart crack out of her chest and get in the way of her lungs working properly.

She doesn't like it.

She also doesn't like the way her insides twist when she steps out into the foyer and sees Harvey and Paula, and they must be meeting to go out somewhere nearby for dinner because Paula's wearing a coat that says they're going to walk and Harvey is fixing the scarf around her neck and smiling at her with the crinkle in his eyes Donna had thought was just hers.

That hurts.

And then Paula braces up on her toes and pulls him down by his collar and kisses him, and it's the fucking worst that Donna knows in that exact moment that she's going to try and be happy for them, because Donna is a good friend.

Donna is a good friend, so she doesn't think about kissing him. She doesn't think about what it would be like to pull him to her by the collar and run her arms up around him under his coat and pull his hips against hers.

She doesn't think about fixing his tie and hair after running her hands over him and murmuring 'okay mister, let's see what the big deal is about' and nudging him out the door to whatever steak place he's found and wants to try.

She doesn't think about threading her arm through his and nudging her body into him, ducking her head into his shoulder and finding a spot to kiss at the same time that he drops his lips to the top of her head.

She doesn't think about laughing so hard over dinner that she has to fall back into her chair for support, and snort, because she does that sometimes when she's really gone, and she doesn't think about his high giggle and the way he'd lean over the table to kiss her.

And she doesn't think about cab rides and hands and lips in apartments, and she doesn't think about murmuring his name into his mouth and ear and pillows. Because Donna is a good friend.

And when Paula pulls back and sees her, she tucks away her pause and shock, and she smiles, and says hello, and tries hard to be happy for them both.

Because Donna is a good friend, and Harvey is not hers.

_end_


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by aditttti: the phone call between Harvey and Lily after that dinner with Paula. But instead, her trying to make him realise he should be with THE 'someone special' he was actually talking about. His subsequent epiphany.

Lily calls him after the dinner to apologise.

"I'm so sorry," she says, and Harvey tries to brush it off. It was an awkward dinner and followed by an awkward conversation, but he and Paula had worked through it.

Mostly. He thinks.

"It's okay," he says. "You didn't mean anything by it. Paula and I talked, and we're okay."

Lily is quiet on the other end of the line.

"What?" Harvey says.

"I… No, Harvey. We just reconnected, and I don't want to do anything to -"

"Mom. What is it?"

He hears a sigh on the other end of the line, and then he can almost feel the atmosphere shift as Lily must decide to just throw her hat into the ring and damn the consequences.

"Is she the one? Paula?"

"Mom, I -"

"Because I don't think she is."

Harvey is too taken aback to respond before she continues. "You said there was only one person who could have made you reconcile with me. And that's not Paula, at least it wasn't. And there are so many other things that are different about you now. You're… softer. And you're compassionate. You're a better man, Harvey. None of that is Paula, is it? That all happened earlier."

"I - "

"Paula seems lovely, and if it's genuinely her, I think she's a keeper. But I don't think it's her, Harvey. And if it isn't, then I think you're making the biggest mistake of your life."

He swallows, because he should be mad. He should be _furious._ His mother, who had dumped so much emotional baggage on him that he'd struggled to find a way to have any kind of healthy relationship, now telling him he was making a bad decision? He should have hung up on her. He should have told her she was wrong and that she was in no position to tell him what a functional relationship was and to mind her own business.

But he didn't, because she was right.

"...it's not Paula," he says, and his voice is both exhausted and hopeful.

"Then who is it?"

He blinks. Because he knows. He's always known. It's Donna. It always had been.

And he was on his feet and out the door before he had a chance to think. "Mom, I have to go."

"Where?"

"I just have to."

_end_


	6. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from donnarspecter: Pre canon, S7, after Paula; Harvey sees Donna and Stu having drinks and decides he's gotta take action!

_I_ _t led me to realise that Paula's not the one._

_… because Donna is?_

He'd turned the question away. Harvey was good at answering questions without actually telling people what they were trying to find out. It was a skill he'd learned from years of questions and depositions and crosses, and he can turn that skill into his personal life without even thinking. It's unconscious and instinct and so when Mike had asked, he'd fed back Mike's own words to him about being knocked into a different life. He wanted Mike to hear 'no' without having to say it out loud.

He should have said yes.

But Mike had dropped it, and they had gotten back to the blackmail at hand, and Harvey almost forgot about the conversation with Mike and the question he'd asked and the answer he couldn't give.

He stops by his favourite bar for a drink on the way home. Well, it's his and Donna's favourite bar, but he's stopped thinking about him and Donna as separate people years ago, and that's unconscious and instinct as well, so it's not really a shock when he walks in and sees her in the back corner in her favourite booth. He's not even looking for her. He just sees her first anytime he walks in the same room as her. She's a homing beacon, always has been, so it's not a surprise.

It _is_ a surprise that there's someone else sitting across from her in the booth, and it's Stu.

They have drinks in front of them, and Stu is talking, and Donna is smiling at him, and Donna smiles a lot at a lot of people, and so it shouldn't be a big deal, but there's something in the way that she's smiling and holding herself that says _date_ , and Harvey thinks, out of the blue, _shit_. He definitely shouldn't think _shit_ , he thinks, because they've just talked and said they didn't feel anything and Harvey's just told Mike that knowing Paula isn't the one doesn't mean that Donna is.

But goddammit because he sees her and in a flash, she is.

He leaves, and he waits for her outside the entrance of her apartment, and when she gets home she looks at him in surprise, and she starts to say "Harvey, what are you doing here?", but she only gets halfway through her sentence before he stops it with his mouth on hers.

She freezes for a moment, but just a moment before he feels her arms around his shoulders and she's kissing him back and the breath he lets out is somewhere between a moan and a sigh of relief, and she tastes just like she did a couple of weeks ago when she'd ambushed him in her office, but now he's allowed to think about how good it is.

He barely pulls back for breath, and "don't be with him. Be with me," comes out his mouth while he's trying to calm the thrumming of his heart in his chest, and Donna starts to ask, ask the same kind of questions Mike was asking him earlier, and he still doesn't know how to answer them because words mean shit, so he kisses her again and pulls her to him hard enough to catch her off the ground with his hands around her waist.

She pulls him inside her apartment.

_end_


	7. 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from realityshfts: Donna and Harvey talking about 'what Harvey doesn't want to talk about' in 7x11.

"Here's how I see this, Harvey. Either we go in there and we interview a legitimate candidate, or we go right now and we talk about what you don't want to talk about."

He stares, and she holds his gaze, and he should pick the interview, because he doesn't want to talk about it, he wants to forget it ever happened, forget Donna ever kissed him, because it's all he can fucking think about and it's forcing its way into every waking thought he has, which is awful, because he's never had a kiss that's done that before, that's shifted his atoms around it, and it makes him angry and confused and it makes him terrified and the last thing he wants to do is talk about it and -

"Okay, fine, Donna, let's talk about it," he hears himself saying, and he takes her by the elbow and pulls her into a side room and locks the door shut before rounding on her so fiercely that she almost takes a step back.

"What the _fuck_ were you doing?" he demands. "Did you even think about how doing that would affect me and affect my relationship? Did that even enter your mind?" He's furious, bright and angry as the sun.

But she matches him, which is surprising, because he thinks she should be contrite and apologetic, but she is not, and he belatedly realises she's throwing herself into the ring and she's throwing a punch and she doesn't really care if she goes down swinging.

"Of course I didn't," she snaps. "You've never thought about how what you do affects me, why the fuck is it fair for you to demand it of me? I've given up _everything_ for you, Harvey -"

"Well I didn't ask you too."

"No, you just assumed I would. And I needed to know."

"Needed to know _what._ "

"If all those times you've looked at me and asked me to stay and told me you fucking _love_ me _mean_ anything, Harvey. Because you pretend that they do, until it matters that they do, and then you pretend that they don't, and I can't _stand_ it anymore."

He spreads his arms out at his sides. "What do you want me to say?"

She stares at him, exasperated, before spelling it out like he's a five year old. "I want you to say that you _love_ me and mean it and fucking…. _do_ something about it."

His lungs and his chest are heaving and he suddenly realises how fucking close he is to her and she's breathing heavy too, and he doesn't think either of them have blinked, and she might be a black hole or she might be sunlight but either way he closes the gap and then his mouth is on hers and it's halfway between a kiss and a sigh when she pushes back against him, and anger flares into passion so quickly that neither of them are ready for the way it shakes through both their bodies. He bites her lip between his and grabs her hard enough to bruise, but she doesn't care because it's all she's ever wanted, some sign that he's actually hers and bruises will do.

He breaks it off with Paula that afternoon and leaves work early, and so does Donna.

_end_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this ficlet, check out 'Trust', which is an expansion of this prompt!


	8. 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by lpaulsenspecter: Pre canon s7 after ep13. Donna and Harvey go out with Mike and Rachel, they end up dancing together, a little drunk and Donna teases him, dancing for him and when she is almost kissing him she stops and reminds him of what he made her promise, but after all.. well, you decide ...
> 
> (This went in a slightly different direction as many of these prompts do when I let them run wild in my imagination...)

There's finally a freedom back between Harvey and Donna that lets them joke and drink and go out for dinner again, that's come slowly after unexpected kisses and breakups and torn up resignation letters. It's taken time, but they're at ease again and Mike and Rachel watch them laugh and joke and even tease around the edges of flirting like high school sweethearts do, and so it feels natural to invite them out again like they've done a hundred times before, for one of their double-dates-but-not, where Mike and Rachel laugh and joke and eat and kiss, and Donna and Harvey laugh and joke and eat and don't kiss, but you'd never know otherwise what the difference between them was.

So they find a restaurant, and they eat, and joke, and laugh, and Mike and Rachel kiss, and Harvey and Donna sink their relief at being friends again in one too many glasses of red wine, and it doesn't feel dangerous at first, not when Donna takes Harvey's hand and pulls him into the little nook of a dance floor nestled in front of the band, and she pulls his hand to her waist and he dances with her, and it's fun and light at first, until it suddenly isn't.

Suddenly, she's close, closer than she should be when friends dance together, and his hand isn't laid on her waist as much as it is cinching him against her, and they're not laughing and joking anymore, they're looking and unblinking and something's happening between them that makes Rachel nudge her elbow into Mike's side and they both hold their breath because maybe finally.

Harvey is staring at Donna, at her wine reddened lips and at her eyes that are shifting colour with the lighting in the room, and has her hair always been that way and fallen that perfectly down her back. Donna is staring at Harvey and the way his eyes are shot through with everything he never says out loud, and has he always been this tall and have his shoulders always felt this strong.

"Oh my god, he's going to do it," Mike murmurs.

And he does.

He leans down to her and Donna's too scared to break the spell so she doesn't lean in but she doesn't lean out either, and when he slides his mouth over hers gently, Mike actually thinks he hears Harvey's heart jump. Donna's hands pause for a moment and then go up around his ears to push through the hair at the nape of his neck, and it looks like more than the kind of kiss that happens when friends are a few too many drinks in and that will feel awkward in the morning, it looks like way more than that, and it's been so long coming that it feels like the world should stop to watch it.

Rachel doesn't squeal, but she grips Mike's knee hard enough to leave a bruise, and she smiles almost as wide as she did when Mike asked her to marry him. "I knew this would work eventually," she said, and Mike thinks she's almost as good at scheming as Donna is.

They pay the bill and leave Harvey and Donna to it, and don't say anything when they arrive within five minutes of each other the next morning and Harvey is wearing the same suit as he was the day before.

_end._


	9. 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by worldsbestpsych - Donna walks into the ballroom looking stunning and Harvey is lost for words! He suddenly realises he's really in love with her but may miss his chance because she is turning heads!
> 
> A/N: I tweaked the ballroom from a generic one to the room where Rachel and Mike get married, because cute you guys.

Harvey supposes that when he walks into the room just in time for the ceremony, that he should be focussed on any number of things.

He should be focussed on Mike, who's hovering and nervous and making jokes because he's nervous. He should be thinking about giving Mike a pep talk, and telling him not to fiddle with his collar because he'll mess it up, and telling him that he's proud of him but also telling him that Rachel is way better than him and not to fuck it up because he's never going to get a better shot at happiness than this.

He should be focussed on the ceremony, because it's in three minutes and he hasn't quite memorised everything he has to do and Rachel is just particular enough that it's significant that he hasn't quite memorised everything.

He should be focussed on his speech because he'll have to do a speech, he's the best man and best men give speeches, but he rushed to the airport as soon as he got the call and he hasn't had a chance to think about it.

There are lots of things he should be focussed on.

But he can't, because he is focussed on Donna, because she has walked into the room like someone turning the light on, and she is genuinely the most beautiful that she's ever been, which means she's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen and he's not sure he's breathing anymore.

He almost can't notice anything but her, except for the other eyes turning to notice her like they've also seen someone turning the light on.

Good fucking God, he thinks, and he's too old to feel his hands shake with the heartbeat of a forever crush in his ribs, but he does, even as he knows it's far more than just a crush and he hasn't let himself know it because of work and the other time and Paula, but all that's done now, and it's a ton of bricks coming down around him screaming _you love her you fucking idiot_ as she looks at him and smiles that shy smile that's just for him and he feels his knees twitch.

It's the turning of heads as she walks up to him that does it.

 _If you don't_ , he hears, like the voice of God himself, _someone else will. Sooner or later, someone else will say out loud what you're screaming in your head and it will be too late._

And so he decides.

She steps up to him and slips her hand through his arm, murmurs, "ready?", and he thinks, you have no idea how not ready I am.

But he leads her down the aisle, and as he looks straight ahead, he murmurs, "after this I need to talk to you."

"About what?"

"About the next time we do this."

She looks at him out the corner of her eye, and he smiles, and she _knows_.

"Are you...?"

"I am."

And she smiles, and murmurs, "I thought you'd never ask," and hugs his arm against her.

_end_


	10. 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by maxybrown: Thomas didn't come up in the lift and Harvey gets to finish what he was going to say.
> 
> A/N: This really needs a whole piece dedicated to it, but I did the best I could with the space I had.

Her name flashing up on his phone is not what he expected, not after everything. But also after everything, what she says is even less expected.

"I told her I'd stay away from you."

"...okay."

"Just tell her," Scottie says, and Harvey says, tell who what, and Scottie sighs and calls him a fucking idiot, and he's quiet, so she says the thing that she shouldn't say.

"I spoke to her. She doesn't want him," Scottie says. "But if you don't say something, she's going to go with him anyway," and she hangs up before he can catch his mouth and his brain up enough to ask the questions that he doesn't really need to because there's no clearer way she could have said it.

There's something in the last thing she says that pushes him out of his chair to her office, and she's not there, and he's not even really making the decision before he's heading down to the elevators and she's still there and _thank Christ_ and feeling that level of relief that someone hasn't gone to be with their boyfriend means enough suddenly that the collar of his shirt feels much too tight.

They talk, and he circles around the topic nervously, and he's a fucking coward, and he asks if Scottie said anything to her, and just as he's about to open his mouth and hurl their entire history into a supernova, the elevator opens and Thomas steps out.

Donna doesn't even look at him and says, "Thomas, can you give us a couple of minutes? Harvey and I are just finishing up for the night. I'll be down in a minute." And she doesn't take her eyes off Harvey as Thomas nods agreeably and heads away.

As the door closes, Donna looks at him.

"I -" he says. _Oh my god just say it_.

"Harvey?"

"Scottie said you didn't want him." It comes out in a rush, and it's god awful and terrifying but also like lightness, because they've never said anything and he's never said anything, and there's a freedom in not being able to go back.

"I don't want him? You mean Thomas?"

"Yeah." He's lightheaded. "I... I don't want to ruin anything for you. But I don't want to ruin... us." _Fucking eloquently put, you moron._

 _"_ _Us."_ There's an inflection in it she's never used before and he thinks he can hear a crack in her voice under the question she's not asking.

"Us."

"Do you think there's an us?" she breathes.

He tries to say yes, but instead it comes out, "please."

And then her bag and coat are on the floor and her arms are around his neck and she's kissing him just like she did in her office an eternity ago, but now he can kiss her back and he does, he kisses her and forgets any other time he's kissed anyone else, and wraps his arms around her and holds her so tight to him that he's almost picking her up and good god he'd done it, he'd finally done it.

She doesn't go to meet Thomas.

_end_


	11. 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by darveyquiet: Donna and Harvey making the bed or taking a shower before Louis arrives in 9x01.

He purses his lips. "Well, I hadn't quite realised.."

"... how ... enthusiastic?"

"Yeah." Her room was a goddamn _mess_. "Did you let two teenagers stay here last night or something?"

"Watch it." She nudges his waist with her elbow, and he leans away from her good naturedly. "You're lucky we even made it this far," she says. "If it wasn't for me we'd still be in the hallway."

He leans over to pick up a pillow; she can see him wondering if she has always had this many pillows. "Have you seen any socks?" he asks. He's barefoot, his pants on and his dress shirt unbuttoned, and even though he's showered and awake, his clothes are wrinkled enough that he looks like he's slept at the office, and she hasn't got any of his hair products in her bathroom so he's just dishevelled enough to look suspicious.

Donna is torn between making him go home to get changed so that people don't ask questions and parading him half dressed through the office while playing Crazy In Love on a boom box.

He absentmindedly starts picking pillows and throws up off the floor, and that turns into him making her bed, and it's so casual and unconscious and domestic that she has to stop and just watch.

Harvey. Harvey who's always said we could never, Harvey who had agreed to never mention it again, Harvey who had fought and clawed to find someone else, anyone else, to hide the haunted wistfulness in his eyes when he looked at her, Harvey who had shaken Thomas's hand and said he was happy for them, in her room.

Making her bed like it was their bed.

He's shit at it.

"Jesus, Harvey, didn't your mother ever teach you about hospital corners," she says, and he throws an offended look her way and says, "it's not my fault you have all this extra shit. Why are there..." he counts. "Six pillows? Who needs six pillows? And a throw? It's summer for God's sake."

But he smiles, and so does she, because holy fuck. They'd done it. They'd finally, _finally_ figured it out.

She slides her arms around him so she can nudge her nose up the ridge of his spine. "Don't bother, we're just going to mess it up tonight," she says against his shirt, and it's a joke but it also isn't, and something sparks between them.

"Good thing too," he says, and he takes her hand and kisses her wrist slowly. "My knees can't deal with that hallway table again. Why is it so high?"

"Well, I hadn't expected to have you and your shitty old knees show up last night or I would have gotten you a footstool."

He laughs, and turns in her arms to kiss her, and says, "let's just go straight to bed tonight," against her mouth, and she thinks quietly that one day, she's going to marry this man.

_end_


	12. 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by trucmuche56: Their talk where they decide to go and see Louis and make their relationship official.

"We need to tell Louis."

"We do _not_ need to tell Louis."

"He's never going to figure it out by himself." She's languid, her voice love-slurred, still catching her breath from the experience of feeling him inside and around her, stretched out and supple with her frame over his, alabaster and freckles flared with pressure points of red from where he's held her and pressed her into the mattress.

"That's why we don't need to tell him. It'll be funny." He stretches, working out taxed muscles, and his hands slide up over his head, one arm stretching against the headboard and his other hand tangling in her hair, the sheet tickling low on his belly, tan against grey fabric, and goddamn if he isn't all she's ever fantasised about.

"Harvey, you're a grown man, you need to stop torturing him."

"What are you talking about?" He feigns offence. "Firstly, I am not a grown man, and secondly, torturing Louis is at least half the reason I keep him around." He smiles, self satisfied, and lets his eyes drift shut while he slides his hand down to her jaw, his thumb over her cheek, and he hums contentedly, his nose nudging hers.

"Harvey."

"Hmm." He's still riding high on endorphins, his body lax and elastic under hers, and he's drifting.

"We're telling him."

"I'm uncomfortable with how much we're talking about Louis while we're both naked," he murmurs.

"Let's stop by his place on the way to work in the morning. It'll be easy, and he'll be happy for us, Harvey. I'll even buy you a bagel."

He cracks an eye open at that. "With cream cheese?"

He never misses a chance to negotiate, and she loves how much he irritates her, with his tousled hair and the way a smile tugs only at one corner of his mouth but crinkles in both eyes. He's unwound, shaken out, lithe and he feels taller to her somehow. She finds that she loves watching him shed the Harvey he wears during the day, all tension and strategy and confrontation, and all that's still there and part of him when he wraps himself around her at night, it just slides into the background and she gets to see him, gentle and kind and playful, love and loving tickling out the end of his hands. And he's hot too, she thinks, which is a nice bonus.

"Mmmhmm."

"And coffee."

"And coffee. Now say yes or you're sleeping on the couch, mister."

He considers that for a moment, absentmindedly tracing his name against the skin on her back, then says, "do you think we'd both fit on the couch?"

"Go to sleep, Harvey."

_end_


	13. 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by luvaniston: I'm a sucker for jealous donna, so maybe they are at a restaurant or something and some woman flirts with Harvey and Donna gets a little jealous.

The problem with Harvey isn't that he's not completely and utterly devoted to Donna, because he is.

The problem with Harvey is that he's so used being flirted with that he doesn't notice he lives in a world where every woman he talks to is pressing in for something more. And he has that smile, and the way he leans back with his hands in his pockets, and the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, and he's an infuriatingly gorgeous man who forgets that he is infuriatingly gorgeous, and he always looks like he's flirting back because he's a cocky asshole, it's almost his primary language, even now, with a ring on his finger and weekends filled with house shopping in Seattle and eyes that are only for Donna.

Donna loves it and hates it all at the same time.

He doesn't mean to. The smile and the eyes and the way his tie sits when he's undone his top button because he's been at the theatre too (she loves it; he doesn't) long is a fucking human beacon, he may as well have a neon sign over his head screaming for men and women alike to try their luck, especially at a dark bar at 1am, and Donna's only gone and agreed to a nightcap.

And so when some skinny thing, wearing something made out of precisely eighteen sequins and not much else, appears, while Donna is in the bathroom, to make eyes at him and tilt her head and giggle, he doesn't even notice.

After all, he only thinks about Donna that way.

So he doesn't notice that the friendly smile he throws back and the conversation he has with her looks like it means more than just a smile and a friendly conversation. He doesn't notice the way the crinkle in his eyes gets interpreted as 'you have a chance', and he doesn't notice the way she stares at his lips when he takes a sip of his drink.

Donna does, though.

Donna isn't the jealous type, because she doesn't need to be, but there's something in her that she calls pride because he's hers, and she appears behind him to run her hand across the front of his shirt and along his collarbone, and his murmured 'hey Donna' is enough for Sequins to roll her eyes and stalk off.

"You we're doing it again," she says into his ear.

"I was?" His forehead wrinkles.

"Mmhmm."

"Huh." He pretends to consider his options. "Well, she did say she had a really interesting condo I should go check out and -"

He's cut off as she presses her lips to hers, and it's hot, chased by whisky and the headiness of _I'm yours_ and _you're mine_ and the edge of smug that she feels knowing how disappointed half the bar is seeing her hold his smile and his gaze and his hand.

When she breaks off, he's breathing hard and his eyes aren't focused. "Still want to check out that condo?"

He smiles, murmurs into her ear, "no, I think I'd much rather check out my wife."

Harvey flirting isn't all bad, she decides, as he texts Ray and slides a hand over her back.

_end_


	14. 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from sapphicsrlit: Donna teases Harvey about being the little spoon (or the other way around).

She first notices the night after they don't spend the night together for the first time since walked into her door and into her soul, and they go out to be just themselves and just together.

They date, and flirt, and laugh, and she looks at him the way she's wished she could look at him for years, and he looks at her in the same way, and it's new, but she swears she's caught him looking at her like that before in all the tired years that they lied to each other, in passing and out the corner of her eye. But now he's doing it like it's allowed, because it is, and he's always been handsome but there's something about the look he's turned on her that makes him completely gorgeous.

And so they say no to desert and instead they flag a cab to hers because it's closer and she pretends to be Ricky's mom, but only for a while, because there's a point where she's sitting over him in his lap and he has his hands in her hair and his mouth open against hers and he breathes 'Donna' in a way she's never heard before, and then she isn't Ricky's mom. She's Donna, and she's with the man she loves and who loves her and who didn't stay the night last night and was terrified about what that might mean.

So she makes love to him, and there's something new there, even newer than all the new they've already had, and she tells him she loves him with her eyes, and that she won't ever leave him in the way she threads her fingers through his, and he's different, threadbare and slow and sweet and more himself than he's ever been.

And after, instead of rolling away for space, or pressing his chest to her back, he instead pulls her against him, finds a way to sort himself inside her arms and push his hips back against hers, and she can't help but smile as she presses a kiss against his shoulder blade and slides her hand over his stomach to settle him against her.

"Mmm," he says, and it's meant to be a question, because he can feel her smile, would have been a proper question if he hadn't had to filter it through a bottle of wine and the exhaustion of loving her.

"You're the little spoon," she observes.

He chuckles and it's sleep drunk and lazy and, she thinks, the best his voice has ever sounded. "Unhappy, Miss Paulsen?"

She shakes her head. "Unexpected," she corrects. And she likes it. Harvey's always been aggressive, and explosive, and so, so private, and yet here he's laying out his body so he can show her a side of him she thinks he's probably never shown another soul.

It's not different to who he's always been. It's just Harvey, wider than he's shown anyone.

She snugs her body tighter against his. _This man_ , she thinks, because it's the only thing she can think of that she can wrap around him that is unspecific enough to let her embrace all of who he is.

He takes her hand in his, lifts her fingers to his mouth and presses a kiss to them. "I never expected any of this," he murmurs.

"Never?"

"I hoped. I just didn't think any of this would happen."

"That's because you're an idiot."

He reaches a hand back to tickle his thumb against her temple. "I really fucking am."

_end_


	15. 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by argdarvey: Harvey being a sap or overprotective
> 
> A/N: This went in a slightly different direction than I intended, but cute you guys.

Harvey isn't good at being a boyfriend.

He forgets anniversaries, because Donna's always been the person who remembers for him, and he doesn't know how to buy presents, because she does that, and he forgets to text and call because he doesn't know his own phone number let alone his passcode.

By all metrics, by all the lists in Cosmo and all the online quizzes that tell you if your man is a keeper, Harvey is sitting down the bottom.

But Harvey is also something else all together.

Harvey is the man who is always, always there when she needs him, and she doesn't know how he does it because he never answers his phone, but her feeling sad or anxious or scared is like some kind of bat signal and it's only ever seconds before he shows up with his hand on her back and his chest pressed against her shoulder with his low and steady 'you okay?' that always seems to make everything okay even if it isn't.

Harvey is the man who suddenly and seemingly out of nowhere found a way to voice how he feels about her, and tells people she's the one, and tells her she's the one, and talks about loving her in a way that makes her certain she's never been loved by anyone else, not really.

Harvey is the man who casually discusses new apartments with her and who sends her real estate listings that are close to theatres she likes, and doesn't buy a new mattress until she's tried it first, and shifts the way his bed faces in his bedroom because she prefers morning sun on her face to the evening slide of warm across her pillows.

Harvey finds ways to tell her he loves her without saying anything he wouldn't usually say, because he's not someone who knows how to give speeches about how he feels. But he knows how to say it in tiny ways.

So he says, one morning, as she slides back into bed with a cup of coffee, "you fit here like you've always been here."

And he says one day, as they leave the office to check out a new restaurant she's found, "you know, I've never liked trying new places when you aren't with me."

And he says one day when he's back from a trip to Chicago to see Jessica, "I couldn't sleep at all," and then when she asks why, he shrugs and says "you weren't there," with all the concern of someone confirming gravity exists.

Harvey isn't the kind of boyfriend that Cosmo recommends, but then, they aren't the kind of couple that would grace those pages anyway.

Donna doesn't want flowers and presents and napkins. She wants him, bare and open like it's easy, laid out to her like petals against the sun. She wants his body and his soul and his thoughts, she wants him, winding his life into hers without ever thinking he'd need to unwind it again, because he won't.

That, he does.

Harvey isn't a good boyfriend, but he's a very good forever.

_end_


	16. 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by martinilawren: i want a very mushy fluffy Darvey where Harvey takes a lot of pics of Donna and with Donna and is all cute and soft.

She feels the warmth of the morning sun creeping across her back, and pushes her face into her pillow, hugging it against her - she's always found it harder to get up in summer than in winter. It doesn't make sense because most people find it much more appealing to hide under the covers in winter, but Donna loves the heat of the sun beating on the sheets, promising long days and afternoons that stretch out forever and that being the case, why bother rushing out of bed.

It takes her a minute to realise she can't smell coffee.

Harvey is like most people, an early riser in the summer, and the last handful of weekends have been marked by the smell of coffee as she stirs, and with him propped up next to her in bed, already on his second cup, his hand drifting absentmindedly over her back while he reads the paper and texts Mike about Seattle and Rachel and calls Mike a screwup, because that's the closest Harvey comes to admitting he loves Mike.

This is their new routine, the smell of coffee and the quiet rustle of newspapers, but she can't smell coffee or hear paper, so she cracks an eye open towards him.

"What are you doing," she says, sleep drunk and grumpy.

"Nothing," he says, but he's holding his phone at a particular angle and he sounds like he does when he's lying and not trying very hard not to get caught.

"Mmm," she says, and it's as articulate a complaint as she can manage. "You're taking photos. Again."

"Mmmhmm." He pulls the phone back from her swatting hand and smiles.

"Delete them," she says, pulling her spare pillow over her head. She hates waking up on summer mornings and she hates his phone and his stupid collection of photos of her that he's building and she hates his smug smile.

"No way." He pulls the pillow back and takes another one.

"I look horrible."

"You look fantastic."

She knows what he says when he says that to her. Because she doesn't look fantastic. She's a normal human woman, and she wakes up with bed hair and sheets pushed around her waist and in need of a toothbrush and a shower. She doesn't look the way she thinks most people imagine she does when she wakes up. She thinks the world probably thinks she slides out of bed in Gucci.

He thinks she looks fantastic because she looks in the mornings the way only he ever gets to see - sleep loved and stretched out and supple from rest, freckled and tousled and with gentle lines chasing her waking smile.

It makes him soft. Harvey isn't soft much, but he is when he wakes up before her in the mornings and catches her gentle smile on the sunlight and in his camera, and he doesn't show them to anyone, he just likes knowing he has them, has this Donna, this Donna who is only just for him.

He loves it and he loves her, and he takes photos and then slides his body against hers and murmurs that's she's never looked more beautiful, and she falls back into a doze with him tangled around her, and she loves him.

_end_


	17. 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by darveyHD: Darvey having a big fight and sleeping in their own apartments, but one of them gets lonely so goes to stay with the other and just gets into their bed.

Harvey and Donna love each other fiercely but they don't quite know how to be _them_ yet because they're too used to being not quite together and not quite lovers and not quite a couple.

They're both loud with their love and loud with their hearts, and it mostly leads to laughing and kissing and cab rides and pulling clothes off each other on the way to _my god Donna_ and _yes there_ and it's new and messy and all unexpected because neither of them expected any of this.

But they're also used to challenging, and fighting, and pulling the best out of each other by pressing until it hurts, and they're so used to blurred lines that pressing until it hurts is not something they've managed to untangle from being lovers yet.

So their first fight, their first real fight, is a doozy.

It's at work and it's about work and it's all the lines they're trying to redraw colliding, she's COO so he's not her boss anymore, but he's managing partner so she's not his, and they don't know who the buck stops with and before they think to ask what they're doing he's left and she's slammed the door of her office closed and then they both sit with their phones on silent and don't call each other.

Donna goes home late and she's still angry, but mainly she's angry now because he hasn't called, and she's angry at herself because she hasn't called either, but fuck him because the boy is meant to call, she thinks unfairly.

She gets into her apartment and stalks into her bathroom and then into bed and she's read somewhere that couples should never go to bed angry at each other, but whoever wrote that article doesn't know the depth of Harvey's ability to be an asshole.

She's had the light off for a while, thinking of better comebacks to throw at Harvey than the ones she used in the heat of the moment, when she hears a key in her door and he's the only other person who has a key to her door. She doesn't get up, but she doesn't call out to tell him to get out either.

Then the mattress shifts, and he's behind her, and he slides an arm over her and he's still wearing his suit so he hasn't been able to go to bed.

"I'm an asshole," he says, because Harvey isn't good at saying sorry yet.

"You are." She lifts a hand behind her to cup his cheek in the dark. "I am too."

"Does the person who wrote that article about not going to bed angry with your loved ones know how infuriating you are?"

She smiles in the dark, and that's the moment she knows they'll always be okay. "I was just thinking the same about you."

He considers that.

"Paper rock scissors? Winner gets control of the firm?"

She laughs, and says, "shut up and kiss me," and he does.

_end_


	18. 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by mysticaldarvey: 9.10, everyone goes for drinks and Donna and Harvey act couple-y around everyone for the first time (holding hands, quick kisses, Harvey sitting with his arm around her) so everyone takes the opportunity to tease them about it.

It's Samantha's round and Harvey and Donna are being 'gross', as Mike puts it.

It's not much; Harvey and Donna aren't given over to displays of public affection, but everyone they're sitting with has been rooting for them for so long that everything feels like a moment - her laying a hand on his knee, or the way he leans into her a little bit more than normal when he asks which drink she wants, or how he's taken to tickling his finger tips along her spine when she's settled in next to him.

It's normal, and it's effortless, and it's nothing much, and that makes it monumental.

Mike's been waiting for this for years, and he wastes no time in giving Harvey all the shit he can for it. "So, how long have you two liked each other?" he asks, and Harvey rolls his eyes into the back of his head while Donna wonders out loud if it's too late for someone other than Harvey to be able to adopt Mike.

It's a cue for everyone to add their own two cents, which Harvey pretends to be annoyed by while Donna kisses his cheek, and he tries to prevent his chest from puffing out proudly because he's spent decades with Mike and Rachel and Cameron Dennis giving him shit about Donna, and he'd always had to deny it and then go home to wonder _what if_ and _maybe_ and _if only_ , and now the words and the jokes are the same, but he's got her, and he gets to go home with her and go home to her, and wake up with her and talk about the future and laugh and make love to her, and that's everything.

Samantha is joking about how Harvey ditched her in her hour of need to go to be with Donna, and Harvey shrugs at the laughter and Donna only blushes a little bit, and she looks at him with her bottom lip tucked in between her teeth because she can't quite believe it either, that the comments are something she can laugh with and not deny, and they don't pierce her with more sting than joke anymore, and when Alex tells everyone he had to spell it out for her and declares himself the new Donna, she doesn't mind at all.

"You guys really were idiots," Mike says.

"We really were," Harvey agrees, and he's got his eyes on Donna like there's nobody else in the world. She leans in to kiss him lightly, and can't quite believe her luck.

"I just hope it doesn't take you guys as long to get married as it did for you to figure out you were both hopelessly in love with each other," Mike says.

Harvey feels his grandmother's ring sitting heavier than its weight suggests in his pocket, and he says, "shut your mouth kid." But he thinks _if only you knew._

_end_


	19. 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by sapphicsrlit, who posted images of Donna with the exact same smile while first meeting Harvey and during the proposal scene. This came from that post, and it falls outside the prompt request thread, but I thought it was worthy of being included here.

Donna didn't give away things easily.

It wasn't that she hid herself - just the opposite, in fact. She was the most open and honest person Harvey had ever met. She trusted her own feelings implicitly, she didn't second guess herself, she knew everything about him, and she'd reminded him of those facts every day for almost 16 years.

What that means is that there shouldn't really be anything that should surprise him about her any more. But there is. Every day. It's just that she buries the things that surprise him in the things he knows the most deeply about her. She gives away things that are new and just for him in the things she's always done for everyone, and he's not sure how she does it, how she wraps a whole new her in everything he already loves.

She still calls him an idiot, but now it doesn't mean that he's an idiot, it means _I love you_.

She still touches his arm when he walks by her in the office but now it's not her surrogating as friend or confidant or therapist or sister, it's because she's his and he's hers, and it isn't ownership, but it is partnership.

She still gets him coffee in the morning but now it's not to join him on his morning walk to the office, it's to join him back in bed and bribe a kiss out of him.

She still dresses to match him like she has a camera in his wardrobe, but now it's not showing up with the right dress or matching shoes, it's emerging from his shower in the same beaten up Harvard t-shirt he was planning on wearing to bed, her hair pulled up in a messy bun and a pair of his gym shorts on with the drawstring hitched tight around her hips.

She still jokes with him about Mike, but now it's not about how Harvey's a bad father but also about how she's a good mother.

She still drinks whisky with him and she still listens to jazz, but now it's not at work while going through briefs until 2am, it's at tiny jazz clubs in the village while they work their way slowly through cheap doubles and lean against each other over wobbly tables and he tells her about the band and she drifts her hand over his knee.

These are all the things that she does with him - joking and laughing and drinking, listening to music and choosing her clothes with him imprinted on her soul. These are the things that she does with him at Louis' wedding, sitting and waiting for news of a baby and a birth. These are the things that make him tilt his head at her, and know that he has been waiting, just waiting for her, and finally, _finally_ ask something he's been hoping to ask for 15 years.

She looks at him when she marries him like she'd looked at him the night she met him, and that's when he knew that she'd been waiting for him, just waiting, every day since the day they met, just like he'd been waiting for her.

He says, I do, and she does too, and she's said yes to him thousands of times before, but this one is also new, and it means forever.

_end_


	20. 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by jobiefreeman: Donna wants to cook something for Harvey's birthday, but cooking is the one & only thing that she's never mastered & it's an unmitigated disaster. She gets really flustered and upset & Harvey thinks its adorable.

He comes home early, and he's excited, because it's his birthday tomorrow and she's insisted she's going to cook him dinner, and she's never cooked for him before. Donna has never pretended to be a home maker or a nester. She's someone who goes out with him and comes home to him and she has a beautiful apartment but she doesn't dwell on it or in it for too long.

And so when she says she's going to make him dinner, something shifts inside him because it's new and he loves discovering her still. She's murmured suggestively down the phone about aphrodisiacs and strawberries and whipped cream, and he's found himself restless and squirming for the rest of the day, desperate to get home to her, and he's told himself sternly to have patience, and dinner first before he pulls her into bed with him.

And so what he doesn't expect when he cracks the door open is the sound of her cursing the inventor of the oven and the concept of cooking in general and slamming pots down as if they'd done her a personal injustice.

He rounds the entrance to the kitchen, and she looks up with a particular mix of rage and panic that he's never seen on her before, and his kitchen looks like someone's set off a stick of dynamite in the sink, and she somehow has flour on her nose even though it doesn't look like she has any flour in any of the dishes she's trying to make, and it's a _disaster._

She's finally found the thing she's not good at, and it's just like Donna to assume she'd be amazing at this, because she's amazing at everything, and the indignant glare she has at finding out at the same time as Harvey that she's not a natural chef is gorgeous.

He doesn't think he's ever loved her more than in that moment.

His instinct to grab her and kiss her comes second to his instinct to quirk his eyebrows up and hide his smile behind his hand.

"Don't say anything," she says, pointing a spatula at him like it's a weapon.

So he nods and says carefully, "looks like you have everything under control here."

She tips her head to the side and looks at him with the look she gives him that translates to 'asshole', and she pushes hair out of her face and looks around for a second as if anything she's done is salvageable, and then admits defeat with a heaving sigh.

"Happy birthday," she says, and he laughs, that high pitched laugh he normally only has when he's high, and he walks up to Donna and drapes an arm over her shoulder.

"Thank you," he says, and he means it, because he can't think of anything better than discovering this with her.

"I wanted it to be perfect," she says.

"Oh, Donna." And his eyes are as genuine as they've ever been as he says, "what makes you think this moment is not perfect?"

They order a pizza, and Harvey helps her clean up, and that weekend he teaches her how to make carbonara.

_end_


	21. 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by annahatcher: Darvey and Machel out in Seattle for the first time aka the first night Rachel can really watch Darvey TOGETHER. Preferably her POV.
> 
> A/N: I had already written a 'Machel and Darvey out together' prompt as part of this challenge so I took it in a slightly different direction.

"Okay, you need to calm down."

Harvey and Donna are visiting Seattle. They're preparing to move, making decisions about which part of town they want to live in and looking at apartments and wandering through furniture stores while discussing the best way to move Harvey's records and Donna's art.

They're staying with Mike and Rachel, who proudly show off their adopted city with all the fervour of the recently converted, and even Harvey begrudgingly admits there is something charming to the city and the people that he enjoys 'and would enjoy a lot more if it would stop fucking raining all the time'.

Mike's been in New York recently, to help save the firm, and he's seen Harvey and Donna together and had a chance to get used to the both normal and deeply unusual sight of watching them, together, walking a few metres ahead of them, Donna with her hand wrapped around his, and Harvey leaning into her so they can share some secret joke and giggle into each other's eyes.

Rachel hasn't had the same chance, and has spent most of the last 48 hours alternatively making wordless noises in the back of her throat or fluttering her thoughts at Mike about how cute they are and how sweet Harvey is and how happy Donna looks, and that's when Mike tells her she needs to calm down.

She doesn't. Rachel has loved Donna almost since she met her, and Donna has loved Harvey since well before that, and Rachel and Donna are fast friends, the kind of friends that carry each other's hopes and joys but also their hurts.

Rachel had carried some of Donna's hurt and heartache for Harvey for years and knew the gut punch of 'no' and 'that isn't us' and 'we're just friends'. Rachel knew how much it took from Donna to watch Scottie and then Paula squander chance after chance with him, and watch Harvey self destruct as well, because god knows he was as flawed in those relationships as the people he chose.

Secretly, Rachel thought that maybe he was choosing people he could self destruct with because he'd always known it was Donna and there was something in him preventing him from choosing someone who would actually be something.

She'd always hoped, but she's also watched Donna and Harvey circle around each other, both waiting for that one invisible signal that never seemed to come, and she'd also thought, realistically, Donna was too smart and Harvey was too damaged, and sometimes she just hoped Donna would be able to cut him out of her and move on with someone stable and healthy.

Stable and healthy weren't Harvey.

The problem was that everyone else wasn't Harvey either.

But something had happened in the year that her and Mike had moved to Seattle. Harvey and Donna were both… lighter. Harvey was easier, gentler, the creases around his eyes now more from laughter than anger, and Donna wasn't holding him on her shoulders anymore.

Harvey seems younger and Donna seems lighter and they've both figured it out, finally.

She watches them laugh, and kiss, and watches Donna slide her hand into the back pocket of Harvey's jeans as they walk, and she thinks, what a day to be a part of.

_end_


End file.
